


The Root of the Problem

by ArtemisRae



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Community: au_bingo, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-10
Updated: 2010-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-21 15:29:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/226727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisRae/pseuds/ArtemisRae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In desperation, Central sends Alex Armstrong to round up the Elric Boys; he tracks them down and has a rather enlightening conversation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Root of the Problem

A man like Major Alex Armstrong was really not built for the weather in the south: he stood too close to the sun, which saw him as a challenge to beat down. His skin was too fair to stand in the direct sunlight, and his greatest source of comfort and identity – his uniform – was stifling in the heat. It was a challenge for his lungs to expand in the heavy air, and as a result his second most imposing trait – his voice – sounded weak, and tired. The overall effect made his single most imposing trait – all of him – seem rather lifeless and drooping, as if he were a flower wilting in the sun.

 _That’ll work to your advantage,_ the local Sheriff had told him. _It’ll make them think they have an advantage over you. They’ll be more willing to come out and talk._

 _Well,_ Alex had shrugged. _If thinking they have the upper hand means they’ll show their faces –_

 _Sorry, let me say that again._ Mustang had leveled his gaze. _They_ will _have the advantage over you. But at least they’ll come out and talk instead of laughing at you while you get lost in the desert._

Armstrong had a feeling Mustang was amused by his presence, but at least he’d been cooperative. The southeast was his jurisdiction and they both knew it, and even though Alex had been sent from Central to round up the Elric Boys he’d prefer to stay in Mustang’s good graces. He’d been generating a lot of talk in Central recently.

Of course, the majority of the talk had been about his relationship with the Elric Boys, and his inability to rein them in, but all the same. A lot of the talk had been sympathetic. The Elric Boys were hard to nail down. And they hadn’t exactly been considered anything other than petty thieves until the owner of the nearby Yousewell mines had been found with his neck twisted the wrong way ‘round.

This was the reason Major Alex Armstrong found himself wandering the bare desert mountains during the hottest part of the day. His first canteen was already empty; the water in the second was so warm it could have passed for bathwater instead of anything remotely refreshing.

“I wouldn’t take another step if I were you.” Armstrong stopped, and looked up. And up. Perched on the edge of a small rocky outcrop was a young man, swinging his legs casually as he looked down. There was no clear way to explain how he’d reached this outcrop; it was high above the trail and was surrounded by sheer cliff walls. Despite the fact that his hat was pulled down low, Armstrong could see the golden hair and glinting eyes that marked him as an Elric. “You’re standing on a trip wire that leads to an explosive big enough to leave nothing but your hat floating there in midair.”

Every single muscle in the major’s body tensed; it was a process that lasted several minutes, during which time a voice called from higher up, “That’s only partially true, Brother. He’s standing on a wire, but I have the trigger up here.”

The kid bristled. “Shut up Al! Fine!” He pointed at Alex dramatically. “You! Are standing on the bomb! And my brother is the tripwire! And you are the flame that sets off the tripwire!”

Alex blinked. “You don’t need a match to set off a tripwire mechanism,” he said before he could stop himself.

“He’s right, Ed,” Alphonse called. Edward mouthed in inarticulate fury, but Alphonse dismissed him. “Relax. He’s unarmed, I can tell from here.”

“He doesn’t need any arms!” Ed shouted, standing up and tilting back his head to shout at Al. “His _entire body_ is a weapon!”

“So you must be Edward Elric,” Armstrong mused, stroking his chin. “You’re a lot younger than I’d figured.”

Ed’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that got to do with anything? And what’s Central doing sending strangers pokin’ around anyway? Last I checked our local law enforcement was doing a bang-up job.”

“They are concerned about his inability to apprehend Yoki’s killer,” Armstrong revealed.

“Shit.” Ed spat. “The worthless sack? I did Mustang a favor.”

“His family doesn’t really see it that way.”

“The hell they don’t,” Ed argued. “Everyone knows he was cheatin’ them out of their fair take from the mines. _Please._ Central’s been gunning for us ever since me ‘n Al withdrew from First National.”

Ah. The bank robbery. That had been quite the sensation a few years back; no one had ever gotten into and out of the bank both alive and with the loot. Looking at the boys now, Alex had the sudden realization that the two of them must have just been babies when they pulled that off. “The government maintains that you made off with considerable wealth.”

The veins stood out on Ed’s neck. “First of all, there wasn’t a lick of money in that vault. Not a single penny. All we took was some research journals, which, _second of all_ , were private property that belonged to our father.” Ed spat again. “The way I see it, we didn’t commit any crime.”

“It wouldn’t have been a crime if your father was dead,” Armstrong pointed out. The Elric Boys’ father was a reclusive genius who floated through Central from time to time; the government had on occasion purchased some of his plans for weapons development. It looked like the Boys had not only mastered his ideas, but built upon them. Central was terrified. “He’s still alive.”

“Not if I have my way,” Ed sneered. “He’s the only man I ever wanted to kill more than Yoki.”

“Your own father?!” Armstrong recoiled in horror; his family was close, his desire to honor the family name too strong. The concept of patricide was unimaginable.

Ed looked away. “He’s the reason our Ma died. I won’t let that bastard rest until he knows she’s dead and that it’s his fault.”

Silence fell as Armstrong stared. Something in his chest felt funny – the familiar twinges of sympathy he felt when he saw a stray dog. The things these two boys had faced – and so young in life as well! “What about Yoki?” Armstrong finally asked, clearing his throat.

Ed set his jaw and looked away. “I got nothin’ to say about him. I killed him, and if he comes back I’ll do it again.”

“Brother…” Alphonse said in a warning tone.

“What about you, Alphonse Elric?” Armstrong asked, craning his head to get a look of the teenager above him. “You got anything to say about Yoki?”

“You leave my brother alone!” Ed interjected, but Alphonse merely shrugged and shifted so his posture mirrored Ed’s, sitting on the edge of the outcrop with his legs swinging in the breeze.

“You would have killed him too.” Al said simply. “Any decent-minded man would have.”

“But what did he do to you?” Alex asked insistently. “The way I see it, you and Yoki’s business never mixed.”

“It’s not what he did to us,” Alphonse explained. “It’s what he did to Winry.”

“He didn’t do anything!” Ed interrupted hotly.

“He tried though,” Al countered calmly.

“Yeah, well, Winry was more than a match for him.” Ed looked at Alex, his eyes burning like the sun. “You want to know where our business mixed, lawman? Yoki had an eye for Winry. Tried to make her do stuff she didn’t want to do.”

Winry Rockbell. Mustang had told the major about the Rockbell girl – hell, she’d given him the best meal he’d had since he’d arrived in town until he’d asked about the Elrics and her eyes had turned cold. She was a pretty, young thing about Ed’s age. Alex felt his throat close up.

It must have been written all over his face, because Ed snorted. “Please, Winry knows how to take care of herself. She broke his wrist,” he said proudly. “But I broke his neck. And it was more than he deserved.”

Armstrong swallowed hard. Ed and Al were already wanted – and they’d made their own situation so much worse – all on account of –

His heart broke. Before he could stop himself, the tears welled and he cried out, “You did it out of _love?!”_

Ed looked horrified. Alphonse looked only slightly less shocked. “You really shouldn’t waste water this way in the desert,” he called politely, but Armstrong was too far gone:

“There is no more noble a pursuit – and no more despicable a crime – to have lost your family – and want to protect –“ He almost wished that Ed was closer, or that he wasn’t standing on a death trap; he was overcome with the urge to hug the boy, or at least shake his hand.

“For the love of – get a hold of yourself!” Ed demanded, tossing a rock in his direction.

Major Armstrong snapped to attention, tears still streaming down his face. “Elric brothers! I swear, on my family honor that I will do everything in my power to keep the wrath of Central from you!”

Silence greeted this declaration.

“Uh… thanks,” Ed said quietly.

“I guess we won’t blow you up then.” Al remarked.

***

Sheriff Mustang was napping at his desk, his feet propped up and his head tilted back when Armstrong got back to the office. As soon as the major closed the door behind him, Roy jerked in his seat.

“I wasn’t – Oh. Major.” Alex took a seat in front of Mustang’s desk; the sheriff took in his red face and swollen eyes and sighed. “The kid gave you his sob story, didn’t he?”

“It’s very tragic,” Armstrong agreed, mopping his forehead with a handkerchief. “I don’t know how I can possibly go back to Central and report their movements.”

Roy snorted. “Don’t let the Elrics get to you. Alphonse is okay, but he still goes along with Ed too much, and Ed’s too smart for his own good. He’s more trouble than he’s worth.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Alex rumbled. “You know your relationship with the boys is the subject of a lot of talk.”

“They’re a menace,” Roy muttered.

“Then why haven’t you arrested them yet?” the major challenged.

Roy tilted his hat and considered. “Ed owes me money.”


End file.
